


Moment Alone

by dazzler



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Cid and Vincent were up to on date night at the Gold Saucer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moment Alone

“Can’t sleep?”

Vincent looks down, sees Cid standing on the balcony with his arms crossed over his chest. They rise, balancing on the edge of the roof for a moment before walking along the scaffolding to jump down beside him. “I don’t like being stuck here,” they say.

“Me either,” Cid admits. He rubs his chin in thought. “Say, why don’t you and I take a night out on the town? Enjoy the place without the kids hanging around.”

Out of the corner of their eye, they glance at him curiously. He isn’t suggesting they invite Barrett or Nanaki, nevermind the fact that Cloud, Aerith and Tifa are not children. They certainly see Yuffie put away her share of drinks when it’s on Cloud’s tab. Cait Sith… well, no one’s really sure about Cait Sith.

They don’t mind, though. They also want to be alone with Cid.

“Okay,” says Vincent. Cid claps them on the back, looking pleased.

* * *

 Vincent folds their long legs into the gondola, head nearly scraping the top. Across from them, Cid sprawls out on the seat, and Vincent has to curl up on themselves to avoid coming into contact with any of his limbs.

The gondola starts moving with a jolt, launching the two of them up above the neon chaos of the Gold Saucer. Below them, Vincent watches crowds of laughing, happy people, and wonders if they are allowed to have this, after everything.

Cid lights up a cigarette and Vincent takes a deep breath, letting the familiar smell calm them.

“If you want one, you just hafta ask,” Cid says with a snort. Vincent shakes their head. “Suit yourself.”

They ride in silence for a while, until the fireworks begin and light up the whole park, the noises a little too loud and close and like gunfire.

“Hey, isn’t that Cloud and Aerith?” Cid cranes out the side of the gondola, and they reflexively grab onto the back of his shirt. “It is!” he crows, leaning back in. Vincent hesitates before releasing him in case he tries it again.

“Those numbskulls,” he says, but his tone is fond. “It’s like seeing your kids off on a date for the first time.” Vincent gives him a blank look. “...Uh, nevermind.”

“Is _this_ a date?” Vincent asks. Cid coughs, choking on smoke.

“I mean,” he says, voice rough, “do you want it to be?”

In answer, Vincent leans in and kisses him, just a chaste press of their lips against his. After a moment they draw back and run their tongue over their lips.

He tastes like cigarettes, how Vincent had imagined.

The noise Cid makes is nearly a growl as he surges forward, pinning Vincent against the seat, and then they’re kissing fierce and desperate like it’s the end of the world, and it very well might be, and Vincent has to remind themselves that Cid is not an immortal being which means he needs to come up for air at some point.

Neither of them notice when the ride stops moving.

The gondola operator clears her throat politely, and Cid springs up from the seat and whacks his head on the ceiling of the car.

“FUCK! Goddamn fucking shit,” he says, stumbling out. Vincent drifts after him, ignoring the alarmed look on the operator’s face.

“Back to the room,” Vincent says. Cid doesn’t turn around. Vincent can see a red flush creeping up the back of his neck from under his shirt collar.

“Yeah.”

* * *

 They keep their distance from one another up until the door swings closed behind them, and then Cid pushes them against it, craning up to kiss them. Vincent descends gracefully to meet him with an arch of their back, Cid’s tongue curling against theirs and drawing a sound perilously close to a whimper out of them.

They think that Cid is probably way more experienced than they are. They’re not that experienced in the first place, never mind the fact that they haven’t had sex in around thirty years.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Cid says. Vincent drags him up for another kiss, feeling the burn of Cid’s stubble across their jaw. “Hey, I’m not gonna break, you know.”  

 _I could break you_ , Vincent doesn’t say, and instead lets themselves be pushed toward the bed, Cid stripping off his shirt and following after them.

Soon his calloused fingers are pushing open the front of their jumpsuit, probing across their chest, and his gruff voice is in Vincent’s ear. “Talk to me, baby.”

“What do you want me to say?” Vincent says, unsure whether to be mortified or endeared at being called _baby_. They’re older than Cid.

“You okay? You like this?” He punctuates each question with a kiss at the spot where Vincent’s neck meets their shoulder, and Vincent lets their eyes flutter closed.

“Yes,” they say, fingers tightening in his hair. Cid gives them a wild grin and ducks down to tug the jumpsuit off the rest of the way.

“How do you… take off this damn thing… too many fucking belts...”  

Vincent abruptly pushes him off, Cid hitting the bed with a muffled _oof_ , and proceeds to slither out of their clothes and roll over, this time on top of Cid.

They catch his lower lip between their teeth, blood swelling beneath the thin skin and then spilling onto their tongue, salty and warm. Cid makes a helpless, open-mouthed noise against them, and they swallow it along with his blood.

“How do I taste?” Cid asks, tangling a hand in their hair.

“Alright,” says Vincent, and Cid’s sputter of laughter turns to a gasp as Vincent slides their hips together.

Cid retaliates by taking hold of Vincent’s forearms and rolling them over so he’s on top again (Vincent is feeling magnanimous and lets him).

“What now?” Vincent asks. They can hear Cid’s heart rate and breathing speed up, smell the arousal on him. It’s dizzying.

“Wanna ride you,” Cid says, the insistent swell of his erection pressing against Vincent’s thigh. Their hips jerk up off the bed at that, and they can’t suppress a moan. “Fuck.” Cid pushes himself up so he’s straddling them.

“Lemme just,” Cid says, reaching forward to slide two fingers into Vincent’s mouth. Vincent makes a sharp noise around him. “Shh, you’re alright,” Cid soothes, using his other hand to draw circles with his thumb over Vincent’s cheek.

Vincent closes their lips over his fingers and sucks, making him shudder. Cid begins sliding the digits in and out, pushing their tongue down with each inward stroke, drawing soft noises of pleasure from Vincent at the brush of his fingers over their lips.

“Alright.” Cid withdraws his hand, now shiny and slick with spit. Vincent watches, fascinated, as he begins to work himself open for them, face screwed up in concentration, feeling the drag of Cid’s hard cock on their stomach as he rocks back onto his fingers. Vincent trails their hands down his spine and over his ass, kneading at the flesh there.

“You just sit back, I’ll take care of you,” Cid says. He spreads himself open with one hand and positions the head of Vincent’s cock against him, sinking onto it with a groan. Vincent watches his eyes darken and he bites his lip and the smell of sex and Cid is overwhelming.

“Vincent,” he says, voice low and rough, and he starts to move, just a gentle roll of his hips at first, taking Vincent further inside. There’s a flush spilling over his collarbone and his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead a little. He looks about as wrecked as Vincent feels.  

He’s so tight. They can feel Cid’s pulse slamming through them, sense the blood moving hot under his skin at every point of contact between their bodies.

Cid picks up the pace and Vincent matches it, gripping Cid’s hips hard enough to bruise. Cid just grins down at him, all sharp and hungry, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking himself in time with their thrusts.

“Fuck, you look good, Vincent.”

Vincent wraps one of their hands around Cid’s and Cid sucks in a breath, tightening around their cock.

“Tell me how I should touch you,” they say. Cid doesn’t answer, just clenches his teeth and guides Vincent’s movements, thrusting into their joined hands.

Vincent pulls him down for a biting kiss and he comes with a choked off noise, spilling over both of  their stomachs.

“Cid,” Vincent says, breathless.  

It’s like being on the verge of shapeshifting, the heat spiking in their blood and everything around them going hazy and dim as their other senses sharpen. A growl tears out of their throat as they come inside of him, clawing down his back and marking him as their territory.

Cid collapses against them. “Holy _shit_.”

All Vincent can do is lay there and watch as Cid wipes both of them down and crawls back into bed, propping himself up on the headboard.

“Got a little Galien toward the end there,” he says, lighting a cigarette.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. It was kinda hot.”

Vincent curls up against him, pulling the blanket around their shoulders like a cloak.

“Tired?” Cid asks, reaching down to ruffle their hair.

“Mm.” Vincent closes their eyes. Cid’s hand feels warm and heavy on their head.

“Get some rest,” Cid says, and the last thing they feel before they drift off is the brush of lips against their forehead, feather-light.


End file.
